Female, retired, mother and grandmother. I treasure my family and friends. I am passionate about classical music, books, Italy, travel, family, women's rights, and am concerned to combat sexism. I dearly love a laugh, and hope to keep singing for ever. I want to keep learning as much as possible. My head's not full yet.

Thursday, 7 November 2013

Home after childminding

It is a bit too early to go to bed, and there are lots of things to do before I get around to sleeping. I drove back home today, and have been checking the mail, the washing, the cupboards, and where everything goes and rediscovering where I put things. Necessary but rather tedious, and then having to go to the shops to buy something for dinner.

I am feeling rather distressed. When I collected my grandchildren from after school care yesterday afternoon, my grandson, who is a Type 1 diabetic, was not well, and was upset, having performed some misdemeanour, (which sounded fairly trivial to me). He had been disciplined, but had then fallen asleep. When I got him home - and thank goodness I stuck to my routine of picking the children up at 5 pm rather than 6 pm - I did a test, and discovered that his sugars were 2.1, almost comatose levels. Contacting his mother, and also my son, I quickly administered fruit juice and then some sweets and watched him carefully while he recovered. His father arrived to pick the children up at 6 pm, so I had to explain what had happened to my little grandson, so that his father could monitor him carefully. When the sugars are very low, it affects the reasoning capability of the diabetic. They cannot think clearly, and he is only a little boy.

I should have gone over to see my son and his boys yesterday evening, but I stayed home with the cat, feeling very sad about my poor little grandson. Dealing with diabetes is an hour by hour, day by day, week by week thing, and is not easy for anyone, especially the young child with the condition. I was in Canberra when he was diagnosed, very ill, and in emergency care for two days, and have watched his condition, his progress and the fluctuations and effects of the illness for nearly ten years now. Children, of course, cannot understand why they are thus affected, whereas the rest of the world leads a normal sort of life. And there is no explanation: it is just the way it is, it is bad luck, unfortunate, but it could be much worse and there are many things which would be worse. Except that this condition never goes away. Until the hoped-for medical cure....

So here I sit, typing away, and wiping the tears from my eyes as I type, thinking about my darling grandchild. He is by no means perfect, of course: he is a volatile child, but he is lovely, interesting (even though he is absorbed by cars, weapons and other technical things in which I have absolutely no interest whatsoever) and we have a very special bond. I hope he is all right tonight.

About Me

I have two daughters and one son, and six grandchildren. They are my cherished family, along with many siblings, nieces and nephews and their ever increasing progeny. My husband, Dr P, died three years ago. Dealing with his death and its aftermath has not been easy, but with the worst over, I am emerging into the light.
I like to record and reflect on the mundane and particular aspects of my life, and on anything else which takes my fancy - about the exigencies of life, the universe. I don't want to wake up dead one day wishing I had not missed all those opportunities.